Lost Legacy
by Terra Alchemist
Summary: On a quest to find his true parentage, Roy is taken to the world of Ameran, a world where dragons still fly and ninjas abound, but Cecil, the Butcher of Balian, is hot on his trail. Can Serin protect him or will Roy fall prey to the Dark Empire?
1. Serin and Cecil

_**Lost Legacy**_

**_Ameran_**

_It had seemed like it would be a quiet night; no wind whistling through the trees, making branches scratch at the windows, no thunder to shake the house in its foundations, no lightning to wake the children from sleep in a burst of light, no rain to patter down through the gutters to wake them from their dreams... Just darkness and quiet, not a thing stirring through East City. _

_But there had been something to disturb one family's night: a death. A death and a life left behind, wailing and flailing around in his blankets, dark-haired, and worse... foreign. He didn't look like the other children, the three girls that peeked out hesitantly from behind their mother's skirts. The clothes of the woman were foreign as well, different, and she reached out to the child as the light of life began to leave her eyes, but it fell short, limp, a single finger touching the baby._

_The news ofa death in town was cried out in the streets, the body prepared for burial, but the next morning, it was gone._

_Only the child was left, still crying and wailing._

* * *

"God, honestly, what's taking him so long... HAVOC!" Roy roared impatiently from his desk. Havoc poked his head around the corner defiantly, a cigarette stuck in his lip. "What now, Brig? You haven't let us rest since the crack of dawn, and you've just been sitting there!" Roy put his cheek in his hand and fingered the eyepatch over his eye. 

"I'm still trying to get used to being mono-sighted, Havoc."

"Geez Roy, is mono-sighted even a word?"

"I don't know, but you know what I mean, so hurry up already! All I'm asking you to do is put up some posters!"

"But the posters are _gigantic! _All you need to do is put one up on HQ's wall and the entire town _plus Central _can see it; we're talking about a _gimongous _poster here!"

"Is gimongous a word Havoc?"

"Touche, Mustang."

"Yeah yeah... anyway... where's our new Colonel Hawkeye?"

Havoc scratched his head. "I dunno, thought you knew. She's always near you. You think maybe she's had a sick day?"

Roy stretched in his chair and got up unsteadily, using the desk for support. He really wasn't supposed to be working again, but he just couldn't stand being cooped up in his apartment for too long. Or... Hawkeye's apartment, really. Just after he'd been moved back to his apartment for recuperation, a water pipe had blown and he'd somehow managed to avoid getting run over long enough to find Hawkeye's apartment complex and ask for help. Or rather, wait for her to infer that he needed help; he wouldn't ask for it. All in all, it had worked rather nicely, though she was a bit adamant on feeding him apples and keeping him in bed. Or making him use that blasted cane when he did walk. Grrr.

"You know, Roy, maybe it would be better if you-"

"I'm not using the damn cane!" he spat obstinately, and Havoc held up his hands innocently.

"Hey hey, just som advice."

"Get on with what you were saying, Havoc..."

"Alright. Well, the way the poster's going, it could take days to get all of them up. I mean, Fuery's gotten himself glued to the wall five times now, and Breda's fallen off..." he took a pad of paper out of his pocket and checked it. "Eight times. Falman's had three buckets of paint fall on him, and Hawkeye is nowhere to be found. Did I say days? I'm sorry, I meant it could take months... the ones I've got up are doing pretty good, and I've done about seven. Nervous about Fuhrer Elections?"

"Nah. I figure if I don't get it, I'll try again later. Besides, I need to slow down the pace a little, you know? Live a little."

"You mean spend more time snuggling up with Hawkeye in her apartment," Jean crowed, and Roy shot him a look.

"It's not like that... I can't go back to my apartment."

"Could have come to me."

"Your apartment smells like smoke."

"Uh uh uh, I got a house now, and I've already paid it off, so it's completely mine! I'm trying to quit smoking though, seriously I am."

"You can't be having much luck with that one stuck in your mouth."

"No, it's not going so well. Eh? What's this?" Jean walked over to the window and stuck his head out, examining the walkway below. Roy couldn't be bothered with walking over to the window and stayed where he was. "What's up?" he asked.

"Ah, it's some weird looking guy... never seen clothes like that before... kinda... I dunno... medievel lookin', but kinda not. You'd have to see it to know what I'm talking about. He looks like he's coming in though..."

A glue spattered Fuery, a very bruised Breda, and a paint covered Falman stumbled into the room, Falman leaving a big blue handprint on the door. Roy groaned inwardly. These were his most trusted subordinates, men he would trust his life with. Trust his life, but it was better not to trust paint, glue, and ladders to them.

"Sorry for the mess, Sir, we're doing the best we can!" Fuery panted, dripping glue onto the carpet. Hawkeye would have a fit when she got here... Speaking of Hawkeye... a very flustered and irritable looking Hawkeye was stomping out of the bathroom with looks that could kill, one hand on her gun. Roy decided not to try anything smart today. Recovering or not, she wouldn't hesitate on firing at him.

She stared at him, daring him to say a word, and the letters 'PMS' started to drift through his head. He gave her a grin and her frown deepened, her finger twitching at the trigger. Fuery eyed her warily, hoping that she wouldn't notice he was dripping glue, and that Falman was painting the walls wherever he touched. Roy leaned a little into his desk, suddenly feeling fatigued, and the others seemed to slump as well, though much more than he did: Hawkeye leaned against the wall, Fuery, Falman, and Breda doing the same, and Jean sank onto a chair, brushing at his bangs. "Does anyone else seem really tired...?" he asked wearily, and the others nodded.

The feeling passed for Roy, but seemingly not for the others, and he opened the door, careful to avoid the paint-y handprints. People were sighing and slumping everywhere in the hallway, and it made his hair stand on end.

This wasn't natural.

His gloved hands suddenly seemed very itchy; the urge to snap them at something was becoming almost unbearable... He backed into his office quickly and looked back at his subordinates. "You stay here, I'll go see what's happening." Hawkeye straightened and made as if to come with him, but he shook his head and held her back against the wall. "I'll go by myself."

"But-"

"No buts. Just stay here and rest." He didn't know what he was thinking; he was hardly in any condition to venture off by himself, but he didn't want to put his subordinates in more danger. They had done enough for him. He made it down to the lobby and found what must have been the man Jean had described: Tall and tan, his clothes were very foreign. Roy had never seen anything like them before. He was wearing silver plated chest armor lined with gold and matching side plates. Abare sword was belted at his side, also silver, and he had on leather boots plated with steel on the bottoms. His hair was long andblack, his eyes almost as black as his hair. A cape almost touched the floor behind him, a gold cape with unreadable red symbols on them. He turned and saw Roy in the doorway, and his face broke into a smile.

A hungry smile.

"Ahh... there you are. You must be the one I'm looking for." Roy didn't know who the hell this person was. An assassin? He chose his words carefully.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

"You're the only one who's still walking in this whole..." he looked around distastefully at the drab lobby, the cheapness of the desks and the amateur weaves of the insignia's hanging on the wall. "Facility." Then the man frowned, studying Roy, who had a look of utter disbelief on his face. "You did that?" Roy asked. The man nodded, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You... do not remember?"

"Remember what?"

"You... are different from these... pathetic things," the man said, unbelting his sword and using it to point around the room. "You're not what you think you are."

"What do you-"

"You, boy, are not of this world."

"What are you talking about?" Roy growled. "I was born here, I know what I am!"

"So you think-"

The doors flew open again and another man jogged in. He was dressed in white and blue armor, his cape blue with white symbols. "Cecil!"

The man in silver, Cecil, turned and smiled a sickening smile. "Ah, Serin. What impeccable timing, as usual."

"What are you doing here, Cecil?"

"Me? Nothing, of course," Cecil replied, but his hand still remained on his drawn sword. Serin's sword was out and ready as well.

"Don't play dumb, Cecil. I know what you came for, all I'm asking is that you leave."

"We'll see. Have at you, Serin!" Cecil lunged forward with his sword and Serin parried then sidestepped. Cecil recovered quickly and thrust several times, sharp, short thrusts, and Serin danced out of the way nimbly, still blocking every blow. Serin swung in a wide arc and Cecil blocked, and they pressed against each other, neither willing to give ground to the other. Serin jumped backwards quickly, off-balancing Cecil, and thrust into the other man's sword arm. Cecil grunted and his sword clattered to the floor, but he picked it up with the other. Serin did not move to strike, but kept his sword ready.

"Just go back, Cecil, it's all I'm asking for."

"You won this time, Serin. We'll see if you'll do it again the next we meet." Cecil backed out of East HQ and rounded the corner, out of Roy's view. Serin sighed and belted his sword back onto his waist, then looked at Roy with his blue eye. "You've seen alot," he said. "I suppose Cecil... told you some things."

"What did he mean?"

"I... should not... perhaps you should go to the ones you call your parents.Ask them. When you've heard what you need to know... well, I'll find you. Then I'll explain."

"You're... Serin, right?" The other man nodded, then paused.

"You're older than I thought you would be. I was expecting a young boy."

Roy turned. "I don't know what you were expecting, but I'm far from a young boy. Maybe I'm not the one you're looking for."

"No, maybe not. But then, maybe you are. Time is a strange, fickle thing." When Roy turned back around, Serin was gone.

* * *

The following day, Roy found himself knocking on his parents' door. He was inside and sitting on the couch, his mother and father talking to each other and to him, his sisters laughing and pinching his cheeks playfully, but he was not in the mood. He couldn't take it, the question had been burning, eating away at him since the day before. 

"Am I your son?" he asked, loudly, turning all chatter to dead silence; never was there a better mood breaker than that question. His mother turned to his father and he said, "Of course you are, Roy, what else would you be?"

"Am I... are we... related by blood... at all?"

His father looked like he was in a hole; he didn't know what to say, but then his sister stood up and spoke. "No, Roy, you're not.You're not related, at all."

He got upas well, looking around wildly at them, his voice rising. "Then why didn't... why did you... why did you hide it? Why wasn't I ever told? Didn't you think I should _know? _I could have been... or I... why didn't you tell me?"

"What could we have told you?" his mother asked, and he put his face in his hands. "I don't know! Just... anything! Anything at all! Do you know who my parents were then? Anything?"

"We don't know.. anything, Roy."

"Do you, or are you just lying to me again?" he growled at them, stomping upstairs and slamming a door. He knew it was childish, but right now he didn't want to be treated like an adult. Thirty years in the world and not a hint until now that he was adopted. He punched his pillow angrily. Didn't they think he was old enough to know the truth? God, was his real name even Roy?

His thoughts went, somewhat angrily, to the man he had encountered before. Why did he know the truth, when Roy himself hadn't had the smallest notion that he was adopted? And the other man...

You are not of this world.

What the hell?

He went back downstairs and opened the door to get outside, get some air. Hmph. Where was that guy? Didn't he say that he would find hi-

"You're looking for me?"

Roy whirled around and cursed. "H-how did you do that? That was-"

Serin studied his fingernails. "Well, I've been waiting here for ten minutes. Maybe you just didn't see me, hmm?"

Roy didn't want to deal with this. "Okay, yeah, whatever. You said that you'd explain, now explain!"

Serin sighed and slid down the tree, his armor scraping a little against the bark. "Might take a while... or not. You never know. How much are you willing to hear?"

"As much as I can!" Roy muttered, irritated at the man's vagueness. "And that other guy... Cecil. What'd he mean when he said-" Serin held up a finger and his mouth clamped shut of it's own will while Roy was in midsentence. Roy flailed around and struggled to open his mouth again, and Serin sighed and his hand went back to his side. Roy glared at him and opened his mouth again, gasping for breath.

"Used on a man from this world, that move could have been fatal."

"Meaning?" Roy snapped.

"You have a choice. Find out who you really are, or stay here and believe in this perpetual lie. This is not who you are."

"Then who am I?" Roy challenged. "I am what the world makes me, aren't I?"

"Wrong. You are who you were destined to be."

"And if I don't come?"

"Then you can continue to live here, but don't think for an instant that Cecil will leave you alone. Now that he has found you... you have a critical choice."

"But I don't have a choice, do I?" Roy asked, getting panicked. "I don't have a choice at all! It's either go... wherever, or stay and be caught by the other guy... it's just a choice of who I side with, isn't it?"

"True."

"Then who am I siding with?"

"I am Serin Meteru, Dragon Rider of Balian, guardian of the Uragawa line. He is Cecil Koren, Dragon Rider of Ark, butcher of Balian. Your choice."

Roy laughed hollowly. " 'Butcher of Balian', huh? Not so much choice, there. And where is this place, huh? I've never heard of it."

Serin put his hand on Roy's arm, his one blue eye focused on Roy's single black eye. "Are you willing to find out?"

Roy swallowed hard and nodded, and the world turned white.

* * *

"Kid, wake up." Roy felt himself nudged roughly by the toe of an equally rough boot, and he groaned, opening his eyes slowly. 

"Uuuuh... where..."

"Just get up, first. You'll see that your clothes are... not going to fit you anymore..."

"What?" Roy looked around blearily, surprised to find himself covered in clothes twice his size. "What the heck happened?" he cried, feeling his face. "I shrank! I shrank!"

"Well... I said before that time is a strange and fickle thing... seems that time in your world flows faster than over here."

"But I'm thirty-two!"

Serin snorted. "Hmph, still a child. I'm one-hundred and thirty-five. Oh, by the way," he said to Roy's disbelieving looks.

"Welcome to Ameran."


	2. Bartimaeus's Quest

_**Lost Legacy**_

**_Lord Bartimaeus's Quest_**

Roy stared up at Serin still. "One hundred and... thirty... five...?" he asked weakly, clutching his now overgrown clothes around him. Serin noddedand sat down across from him, a bundle in his arms.

"Yes. One hundred and thirty-five. You, by Ameranian standards, are still a child. The equivalent of a ten year old in the previous world." He tossed the bundle to Roy, who caught it. "Those are clothes; go sneak off somewhere and put them on. There's a body of water to our left, just go in that direction. Just don't stray off too far, you don't know who's hungry dragon you might run into. If you're terribly unlucky, you'll run into Elissa."

Roy didn't think he wanted to run into anything, dragon or no. Dragon? What the hell?

He grabbed his oversized clothes and ran off in the general lefterly direction, making sure he was decently covered as he scampered away with the bundle. He wondered who Elissa was... was she a man-eating cannibal? And what was all this thick forest...? It was getting on his nerves. At least it wasn't tropical. It was cool and shady, unlike most of the forests he'd seen, and there seemed to be a lack of buildings. Either this was a very elaborate movie set, or he had indeed been transported to another part of the universe. On a lighter note, his eye was back. He rubbed at it gratefully, glad not to look like a ten year old with a missing eye; he didn't think anything could be more unnerving than that. He looked back to the clearing, but found he couldn't see it anymore, and kept walking and dragging his clothes so they wouldn't slip off his waist. Serin hadn't had one eye either, maybe he should ask him how he lost it... maybe... it was a dragon. Roy sniggered at the thought. Dragon. What kind of sap did the guy think he-

A bright pink cat like monster hurled itself out of the underbrush, screaming and yowling its head off, it's claws flailing and tail swishing. Roy screeched and threw himself backwards, and the cat monster, which was probably only was high as his now much-shortened knee or less, stood its ground and clawed the air at him. It spat and hissed, then flicked its tail once and retreatedback to its tree. It slipped into the hole and a burst of mewling chorused; three little kittens, two bright pink and one blue, whined and mewed. He breathed hard and sidled around away from the tree and towards the water, which was now in view.

"God, it's so... ugh... even my voice is squeaky again!" he howled, displeased to discover other changes in himself. This was terrible; he was a ten year old with a thirty year old mind, how worse could anything possibly get? He threw off his uniform and his work-shirt, both now overly large, as well as his oversized pair of pants and his... boxers. God. He pulled a red tunic out of the bundle Serin had given him and wriggled into it, then stared distastefully at the loincloth thing in the bag. "I'm supposed to wear that?" he grumbled, pulling them on. He searched inside of the cloth bag again and drew out a pair of cotton trousers, which weren't so bad, he guessed, then pulled a pair of leather boots onto his feet as well as some leather gloves onto his hands.

He peeked at himself in the water and thought he looked a bit grimy reflected in the clear blue, and started to wash his face in it. While scrubbing his face, he began to notice something out of place, strange... he stuck his head under the water to try to wet his hair and opened his eyes, and his mouth opened up to scream, bubbled shooting out of his mouth as his face collided with a gigantic scaly snout.

His head shot back into his shoulders and he fell onto his back, gasping and panting, then rolled onto his knees and crawled as fast as he could to Serin, who had just arrived in the trees. Serin laughed and patted Roy's head, then stroked his own scarred eye as if thinking of something, and thinking deeply. A giant silver head reared out of the water and Serin laughed again, then looked down at Roy.

"Here, I'll show you how it's done." He ran to the water and jumped, his arms grabbing onto the long neck that arched over the water and sliding down to meet the massive body that it connected to. Giant wings flapped out of the water and shone and glistened blue, and the monster launched itself out of the water with a small flap and descended onto dry ground again, it's claws gouging holes into the ground; they were the size of Roy forearm! Roy goggled at the two of them and Serin settled himself on the monster's shoulder blades, then patted the neck fondly. "Oh, don't be scared... this is Elissa, my dragon partner. She won't bite... if you don't bother her." The dragon, Elissa, snorted briefly and directed an annoyed and tired glance at Serin, and rolled her eyes. Plumes of fire issued from her snout when she snorted and her great tail, the same length as her body, twitched at the end. Her mouth seemed to quirk up into a smile at the corners and she snorted again, and this time, Serin frowned.

"I am not pig-headed. I resent that." He said crossly, and the dragon leaned her weight into one her haunches and examined a claw critically, like a woman checking newly polished nails. Serin scowled. "Well you're just stubborn, you big sack of scales." What was this man doing, talking to his dragon? Roy ventured closer to the dragon, careful not to trip on any newly upturned earth, and Elissa flicked her tail, amused, then wrapped it around Roy's body and lifted him into the air near her head to scrutinize him. Roy yelped on the way up and covered his face with his arms.

"Don't eat me!"

Elissa turned her head and snorted again, this one somewhat pained, and rolled her eye at Serin again. "She says that she won't eat you; she wouldn't eat you anyway, because you don't look very appetizing. She says she'd much rather eat me than you, and if she eats me I promise to give you severe indigestion, Elissa." He started to address the dragon in midsentence as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and the dragon stuck out her tongue at him, then plopped Roy onto Serin's shoulders. Serin looked at him apologetically.

"I had a saddle, but I left itin Tonia."

"Where?"

"My new hometown... I've got to relax _sometime. _"

Elissa directed a glance at Roy anda voice popped into his head somewhat eerily. _He doesn't relax even when he has a choice to. He's a insatiable workaholic; I'd go so far as to say he's sometimes a pain to work with._

Serin must have heard his dragon as well, because he crossed his arms and frowned. "You can whine and complain all you want, but we were destined to work together.

_A perfect team... _Elissa sighed in Roy's head. _Maybe too perfect. He can also be a pain in the-_

"Anyway," Serin cut in sharply, getting a small Roy off of his shoulders and seating him in front of him, "I was planning to pass over Figaro, then head to Tonia for a restbreak. Then perhaps we could pay a visit to Leo in Amadacyan. Maybe." Elissa's tail flicked again and Serin added, "We'll have to take it slow, Elissa, Roy is new at flying."

_Oh really? I've not seen many people who've never flown before. What chances you've missed, tut tut. I shall oblige and fly with caution and care. _

"Did I hear sarcasm, Elissa?"

_Truthfully, yes. I despise flying slowly and cautiously, especially with care. I'm trying to make you fall you see, just so I can see your face when you do, Serin._

"Oh, ha ha, great. If I fall, you're coming with me."

_How so?_

"I'll increase the gravity pull on you and you'll fall like a sack of stones."

_Fine fine, a truce then. We like to poke fun at one another, though sometimes this pig-headed idiot takes everything I say seriously._

Serin decided it best not to comment on the 'pig-headed idiot' bit, and advised Roy to hold on tight and puke on Elissa if he absolutely had to, to which Elissa replied that it would be beneficial to puke on Serin instead. Roy held his head and groaned. Voices in his head. He looked up as Elissa flapped her great wings and they lifted upwards into the sky, but he couldn't say that he was affected by the sudden vertigo. Thank God.

He looked up at Serin. "So where's Figaro? And, what is it?"

"Well, Figaro is a mountain kingdom ruled by a ninja community; quite a peculiar bunch, but they're very likable. That's as long as you don't insult their honor, which means no talking down your nose at them, no talking back to them, no sudden movements, and absolutely no nose blowing. None. Leo and I found that out the hard way on our first expedition to Figaro."

_Yes, it was hilarious seeing the two of them strung up on sticks like freshly slaughtered cow and stuck into mountain to wait out the night while surrounded by wolves and man-eating birds. They weren't much more than boys then, possibly no older than you, and Serin whimpered like a baby._

"I did not."

_Yes you did. Of course, the Figaroans untied them later on the grounds that they apologize for Leo's noseblowing; poor thing had been taken sick for the five days before, and he just went and fainted in the middle of them right there. I suspect the cold weather didn't do him much good on that stick. Nursed him back to health, locked up Serin ina very remote cell - he was being uncooperative, you see- and let them both free. _

"So where were you the entire time?" Roy asked, and Elissa snorted.

I _was chatting with Leo's dragon Rhona; we both decided that they deserved what they got, but if the Figaroans tried to kill them... well... we'd step in. Ahhh, the times we had..._

"So there are lots of dragons, then?" he asked her, and she nodded her head as Serin watched mountains seem to suddenly materialize in the landscape; flying could be quite disorienting sometimes.

_Yes, many many dragons. We like peace, however, and rarely do many of us have reason to start a fight. Serin and I, as he put it, were destined to be together. Dragons remain dormant in their eggs until there is a stimulus, or if the baby dragon just gets too bored in that shell. It's positively dull in there, but then this fool comes along and touches the egg, and I somehow get the urge to break free._

"So you can... choose to be born whenever you want?" Roy queried.

_Of a shape and fashion, yes. I was most fortunate among dragons; I have the prettiest blue scales..._

"She can be quite vain sometimes, polishing her scales like there's no tommorow..." Serin grumbled, and Elissa regarded him coldly.

_One never knows when an elligible male will come along. Don't pretend you've never preened yourself around women, I remember _all _those instances. Besides, why look like you've just come out of a meat-grinder when you can be shining like the sea?_

"One," Serin said through his teeth, "Because I don't shine like the sea. Unfortunately, I happen to be composed of lackluster skin tissue and buildups of dying cells, thank you very much. I don't have the added luxury of scales. And just because you haven't found a male dragon doesn't mean you can give me grief. It's not my fault."

Elissa inhaled quickly, miffed, and started to spiral downwards, her large green eyes focused on a castle below. Several men in black garb pointed upwards and called towards the castle, then ran away to give landing space to the dragon and her riders. Elissa landed rather bumpily and her scales chafed Roy's cotton trousers slightly, but not enough to tear them, thankfully. Serin held Roy under his arms and hopped off of Elissa with him, and Elissa stretched luxuriously.

_What did we come here for?_

"Well, I was planning to pick up supplies. King Bartimaeus is generous in giving supplies."

_I suppose seeing two Dragon Riders whimpering and writhing while tied to a pair of sticks made him permanantly jovial._

Serin ground his teeth. "I wish it had done the same for you!"

_Oh, have no doubt, it did, my dear Serin. I'll never let you live it down._

"I doubt you'll let me die it down, either." Elissa folded her wings against her body and followed Serin into the castle at a slow amble; it didn't take too much energy to follow her rider, and the door and halls were big enough to allow her comfortable passage to the throne room. King Bartimaeus was seated on his throne, his legs crossed, his foot lolling in an almostagitated fashion, but it's movement ceased at Serin's entrance. He was about Serin's age, maybe a bit older, and had white shining hair, cut short, that did not seem to be the after-effects of old age, but natural. He was a thin, almost wiry man, dressed in a tight body fitting shirt and a half vest that stopped just above his torso. His pants weren't adorned, but seemed oddly plain for a reigning monarch, and he wore sparsely decorated calf guards that ended above his ankle, and his feet were sandaled. His hands were gauntleted in black, with fingertips exposed, and a scarf hung around his mouth,a headband across his forehead, letting six long strands of his hair fall in front of his face. Both ears were pierced, his left with two piercings, his right with one, symbolic of his status in the Figaroan hierarchy.

Roy remembered not to blow his nose.

Bartimaeus's eyes were gray and clear, but seemed slightly shadowed, like a deep sadness hung over his person, a sadness that hung like a weight on his shoulders.

"Serin, it's good to see you again. It has been quite a while since you were last here in Figaro." He inclined his head in acknowledgement of Serin's status as a Dragon Rider, and Serin bowed at the waist. Roy looked at him and did the same, and Elissa also inclined her head.

"Ah, noble Elissa, it is good to see that you are well..."

"You seem troubled, Lord Bartimaeus? Surely life here must be splendid, living untroubled in the mountains as you are. Your people appear satisfied and happy, your ninjas well trained, you are in good health. Are the queen and the princes of good health?"

"But that is exactly my problem, Serin of Balian... there are no princes. My wife weeps and wails in her chambers as she has done for the past many years, and even I find it difficult to restrain my own anguish; many times have we tried to console one another, to no avail. My sons are gone, disappeared from this kingdom by force for thirty-nine years, and it is the misfortune that you have not returned for thiry-nine years, or I would have asked your help sooner. My ninjas have searched and searched, but they are tired of looking for something that may no longer exist... but now I implore you, Serin, to help me, if they are still alive, to locate my sons."

Roy was stunned. Kidnapped for thirty-nine years and not a trace left that even ninjas could follow? He computed in his head quickly. For every three Ameran years was one Amestran year, so then... these princes were missing for thirteen years! "But... how could we know if they're alive or not? If you couldn't find them in thirtee- I mean, thirty-nine years, how can Serin find them now?"

Bartimaeus sank onto his throne, his face in his hands. "I don't know, young one, but... Serin and Elissa's exploits are not un-famous, though it might be that many songs woven about them are untrue... I know first hand their reliability, but if... you think the task is impossible, Serin... then I will understand if you refuse to undertake it."

"That won't be necessary, Lord Bartimaeus. Could I possibly speak with the Queen?"

Bartimaeus stood again. "Yes, of course... it might bea minute." He made several complicated hand gestures and Roy wondered what on earth he was doing. Bartimaeus turned and his hands gestured towards the second throne. Then Roy could hear a voice speaking, though Serin and Elissa seemed unaware of it.

"Y-Yes...? Bartimaeus?" The voice seemed weak and strained, but definintely feminine.

"Angela... Serin of Balian wishes to speak with you concerning the disappearances of Blade and Edge..."

"Yes, yes... I'll be right there... Bartimaeus."

"Take your time," he said softly. "There's no rush." He didn't seem to want her to become overwraught.

In time the queen made it down to the throne room. She was as tall as Bartimaeus, but had the appearance of being somewhat younger than him. Her hair was long and tied into a tight braid that almost touched the floor behind her, and her hair was, Roy thought with a jolt, the most startling shade of blue. Her eyes were a light brown, nothing abnormal there, and her face was round and pretty, bordering on girlish, but her cheeks were stained with tears. Her clothes were also black, but more often there were slashes of red in the long black dress she was wearing. She seemed to have more decoration on her clothes than Bartimaeus, but still dressed rather humbly, her neck sporting only two gold necklaces and her left handa single ring on her ring finger. The dress was slit up to the thigh, but underneath it were close fitting pants that joined into a pair of calf bracers at her calves, which were much more adorned than Bartimaeus's, and a silver anklet hung at her ankle, her feet also sandled.

She passed them to stand next to Bartimaeus, and his head tilted at her, concerned. She shook her head slightly and his head turned back to Serin, his arms folded over his chest.

"You wanted to question me about our sons?" she asked, and Serin nodded, offering her a bow at the waist.

"Yes. Did you witness their kidnapping?"

"No... I did not. I only heard them cry out for Bartimaeus and I, and then they were gone."

"Surely you must have seen how the kidnappers departed?"

"On airships, and at that time we were not in possession of any, nor were our Dragon Riders present."

"Where are they now?"

"Gathering herbs and collecting wood from the mountains; it looks to be a harsh winter this year."

"I see... and how old were the princes?"

"Blade was just a month short of his eighteenth year, Edge was not even two-" she started to tear up and covered her face in her hands, and Bartimaeus put his arm around her shoulder comfortingly.

"So... very young indeed... they would be fifty-seven and thirty-nine respectively."

Bartimaeus nodded sadly and his wife let out another despairing wail.

"This is all the information I'll need, I think. I hope to be back soon with news."

"Thank you, Serin." Serin departed from the castle and Roy jogged after him. While they had been talking, he had started to realize something rather disturbing... he was beginning to forget things!

"Serin!" he said urgently, and Serin looked down at him. "I can't remember things! I'm losing my memory!"

"Not losing it. Your mind is suppressing information it is not ready to contain, and in time you will be left with the mind capacity of a typical ten year old."

"But I'm thirty, I'm a man! I don't want to lose it!"

"It will come back in time, when you come of age perhaps, but those memories will resurface when the time arises, when your mind and body are ready for the impact of those memories. One day soon you will wake up and not remember a thing from your previous life in Amestris, and similarly you will wake up years from now and remember everything from the thirty years that you lived there. In Ameran, those are memories that you do not need."

"They'll come back?"

"In time."

"But..." he decided that there was no use arguing with it. He sighed deeply. He might as well start thinking of Ameran as his new home. "So how will we find those princes? They're probably dead by now!"

"Well, if they're concealed among the general public it won't be so hard, since Bartimaeus's features are quite... unique. His hair color, for example, is a dead giveaway. There are very few people who have a white hair color."

"But there are some, meaning if there are few, there could be thousands or millions."

"True. You saw their parents. Two youths with that same combination of facial characteristics will be few and far between."

"And if they're not in the general public?"

"Then we can expect pirates or slavery. Considering that the method of escape was airship, I'm leaning towards the latter. You noticed, I am sure, that the princes are quite old now? One, Blade, is your equivalent of the ninteenth year, and the younger, Edge, is in his thirteenth. It would be simpler to find Blade, for he still holds some memories of his home in Figaro and would alert us to his prescence, another thing that makes me lean towards slavery. He certainly would have found a way to come home by now if he was smuggled in among the townspeople.

"Finding Edge would be difficult. He was not much more than a baby and doesn't have any recollection of Figaro, so unless he's with Blade and enslaved, it would be... a chore to find him."

"So there's still slavery, then?"

"Not as a whole, but there are still some of the... less noble who use slaves. Dragon Riders try to crack down on it in their respective kingdoms." He just had an idea, and he looked towards Elissa. "Elissa, you're savvy with most of the other Dragons, do you know any sector that hasn't had a Dragon Rider in the space of... oh, let's say fifty years?"

_There are quite a few. Three to be exact. There is Tetro, the desert kingdom in the south, Narim in the east and... Balian._

"But I thought Serin was the Dragon Rider for Balian?" Roy asked, and Serin shook his head sadly.

"No... I am the Dragon Rider of the kingdom of Balian, but Balian... Balian is dead."


	3. Amadacyan

_**Lost Legacy**_

**_Amadacyan, Capital of Dragon Riders_**

After the proclamation, there was an awkward silence. There was, however, a multitude of people who were very much willing to stare at him like he was a madman, then turn back to their dirty bowls of God-knows-what and mutter that he should hurry up and be killed, and good riddance for bad rubbish. Blade's face reddened with indignation; these people were enslaved, but unwilling to try to get out of slavery! What was wrong with them?

He growled deep in his throat and turned back to his cache of collected knives and forks which had been collected over the course of three months, and twirled a spoon in his hand irritably, switching it from hand to hand while it was still spinning. This plan would work, he was sure of it, it had to! Then he would be in Figaro, where he belonged.

Those slave-drivers would feel the wrath of his makudenkunai, sheet-lightning knives!

He stuck his arms through the bars, a knife in hand, and started to pick the lock. It snapped open and he slipped out, then held the door ajar. "Anyone coming?" he asked, and they all shook their collective heads. Where was the trust? Blade muttered and turned, slamming the door on its hinges and stomping off down the corridor.

He ceased his stomping and tiptoed down the stone corridors, careful not to look inside any of the rooms and cells that seemed to pop up quite randomly in the dungeons. There were chains everywhere, tools of torture lay around the floor by his feet, some blood stained, some not.

The first time he had tried to escape he had made the mistake of peeking around in some of the cells, and that had been a terrible mistake. He had seen dead slaves, still hanging from chains or torture devices, their blood spilling or spattered, some just rotting away, their mouths open, vacant looks of what must have been the last few moments of excrutiating pain written all over their faces. Some had limbs missing, some had chests ripped open, their innards for display, and young Blade's stomach could not hold down the pure _dirtieness _he had felt, an unclean feeling that ripped at his mind and made his insides convulse, and that had been the circumstances of his first capture. Blade Figaro, thirty years old, had witnessed a horror that made grown men sick to their stomachs, sick in their minds.

And he lived. He was still alive and he wasn't about to end up like the poor souls whose remains were tossed from one end of a damned cell to another, his blood wasn't going to be used to paint the walls red, no siree. Blade Figaro was going to get out of here, no matter how many times he had to attempt escape to do it. Here he was friendless, here he had no real hope of anyone helping him, of anyone rescuing him, but outside... outside he could find help, he could hide, and he could use his ninjutsu to quell any foe who wanted to bring him back. Those slave-drivers were just lucky that he'd been unable to use his jutsu! Ha!

He hoped that the drivers didn't come down looking for slaves to do more dirty work and realize that he was gone. He had precious little time to roam freely, because once he was reported to be gone they would hunt him like there was no tomorrow and toss him straight back into that dirty little hole. Sometimes he wondered why they left him to escape over and over again, why they just didn't finish him like all the other slaves wanted them to. The other slaves didn't like rebels, it made them look at a person that was brave enough to do what they were to afraid to do. He was a Prince, and he wasn't about to sit in a slave pit.

The lights were dim and were suspended by weak rusty chains, his shadow didn't cast very far by them. Luckily, his shadow fell behind him so it would not be noticed by anyone in a room in front of him. While growing up in this hovel, Blade had mulled over many things in his lifetime.

Why hadn't anyone tried to find him? Or maybe they had, but just couldn't find him. How hard could it be to find a King's son? Especially a son such as he? In fact, he had found that he had no idea where on earth he was, and it was a major setback in his plans for escape. What if there was no one above ground to help him? What if everyone above ground was hostile? If it was too far away from Figaro, he could never reach there on foot... so many doubts had crossed into his head, but all were pushed away. It was better to die a death out there, of starvation or thirst, of asphyxiation or of being pole-axed by a tree, then to die in here where no one would know what had happened to him, to die scattered from one room to another, or to die with the lashes of a whip, the bruises from severe beating, on his back.

He would not stand for it; this was do or die.

* * *

Landing in Amadacyan was tricky business: the city was filled with throngs of bustling people, merchants hawked their wares, women shopped, men looked at their wallets and sighed at how suddenly empty they had become, and children stared wide-eyed at toys and trinkets in stalls. Food was sold, food was eaten, water was drunk, bathrooms were used, wine was sold, throw up was requested to be deposited in trash cans, and bottles hastened to bins. Small animals roamed the streets, quite used to the multitude of people and not at all bothered by the spews of dust that rose from pattering feet, and unused light poles hung over the square. Every now and then the square darkened with the passing of a dragon and rider and the crowd looked up to wave brightly like it was an everyday even, and indeed it was. 

Amadacyan was the capital of Dragon Riders, where they were seen en masse at any given time, and where the mountain of spirits rose in the distance behind a congregation of trees. In truth, it wasn't Amadacyan the city that Dragon Riders gathered to, but the great forest of Amadacyan, a forest used to the roamings of dragons and used to the occasional appearances of men, women, and children long since dead.

For Dragon Riders, this was the one and only home, the home of a gigantic family of Riders and their dragons. Roy, unaware of all this importance, was busily trying to keep himself from being slapped in the face by some nasty looking tree branches. He sighed heavily as Elissa finally parked herself in a clearing and Serin grabbed him and jumped off.

Roy squirmed under Serin's arm: Young or not, he didn't like being carried like a toddler! Serin ignored his protests and set off at a brisk pace into God-Knows-Where, though Serin seemed to have a very good idea of where he was going. Just to get in the know, Roy asked Serin where they were going.

"We're going to Amadacyan Forest. Well, actually, we're already in it, but we're going to the Dragon Rider capitol, Amadacyan." Roy gave him a blank stare in return for this information, and Serin sighed. "It's our headquarters, and I haven't been back in quite a while. I'll probably get chewed out by-"

"SERIN! Where have you BEEN?"

"Gato..." Serin sighed.

"Serin! I was wondering where you ran off to, I mean, you haven't been around in mrrrowwr years!"

Roy stared up at the other man, who was of medium height and build, and possessed a fiery blue head of hair with eyes to match, and had just said 'mrrrowwr'. "Gato, you're going bilingual again..."

"Ah! Sorry, I meant thirty-nine years, you know. Anyways... Uragawa's positively furious, he's wanted to talk to you but you've been nowhere in sight."

"Gato, I really have something I need to-"

"Plus, he says it's important, about 'the egg'. He keeps muttering it all the time and he floats to and fro up on the mountain. He's recently taking to haunting a bit down here."

"Uragawa's come down from Mount Spirit?"

"Every day since you left," Gato affirmed, and Serin strengthened his hold on Roy.

"Then it must be important. Gato, see to Elissa for me. Tell the others I'm heading up to Mount Spirit. Oh, and..." he gave Roy to Gato. "Take care of the kid for me." Gato looked surprised and glanced down at Roy, who looked positively furious.

"Heh, cute. Is he yours?"

"I honestly have no idea who he belongs to."

"Oh, then-"

"Just take care of him and Elissa and I'll be back in a few hours. Hopefully Uragawa's near the summit."

"No, _Uragawa _is right behind you." Roy yelped as a transparent finger sank into Serin's shoulder and came back out and Serin spun around, but not before giving Gato a look and jerking his head towards the bustlings and rowdy noises further ahead. Gato nodded and waved to Elissa, Roy tucked under one arm, and did what he was bidden.

Serin crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well... Serin. Looks like you've gotten older without me."

"It looks that way. I haven't seen you in a long time, Leo."

"Nor I you. How long has it been, exactly, Serin?" Serin detected a bit of a reprimand in the ghost's voice.

"Thirty-nine years."

"Thirty-nine years and not so much as a friendly hello. What have you been doing?"

"You know Cecil is tailing me, Uragawa, you know that perfectly well."

"Now now... are you upset, Serin?"

"Of course not, why would you think that?" Serin said, pacing back and forth.

"You only ever called me Uragawa when you were upset, Serin. Usually at something I had done."

"It's not any fault of yours, Leo."

"I hope not. Cecil is tailing... you, or your new companion."

"Perhaps us both. We don't know who the boy's father is."

"Well, that could be any number of men."

"Did you leave a child behind, Leo?"

Leo's jaw, or the ghostly recreation of it, twitched. "I wouldn't know if I did."

"Why not?" Serin snapped.

"I died. Simple as that."

"Your wife-"

"Never appeared on Mount Spirit, or I would have known. If I left a child, then that child is still with its mother."

"Scratch that possibility then..."

"Keep trying, Serin."

"The egg?"

"Still dormant, though a little while ago it changed colors."

"To what from what?"

"To black from blue."

"... like Cecil's."

"Yes, just like Cecil's dragon, Tobias."

"Okay... anyway," Serin said quickly, changing the subject. "Anyway, I was at Figaro not half an hour ago, and I talked to Lord Bartimaeus; it seems that his two sons, the princes, went missing right after I was last there thirty-nine years ago-"

"Or indeed since you've last been seen anywhere..." Leo mused. He seemed to love to interrupt Serin.

"Stop cutting in. One would be about thirty-nine, the other around forty-eight, both with distinctive features from Bartimaeus or Angela. Am I right in suspecting enslavement in Tetro, Narim, or Balian?"

"Before I answer you... let me just say that it is disappointing how you have left Balian to decay."

"Leo, I had no choice. Balian was dead."

"But there was still some hope, still is some hope, for that kingdom to recover."

"There aren't any heirs, there isn't a soul who would step foot in that... that warzone."

"None but the soulless, Serin, none but those who possess no souls."

"Leo-"

"You should have stayed to defend it, dead or not... but you are right in thinking enslavement. It is what I would think as well. Let me just say this: avoid Balian at all costs, do not step foot in Balian unless you are ready, or if there is no other choice."

"But why, Leo?"

"You are not ready... to face Balian, Cecil, or your past. Your disappearance for thirty-nine years proves that." Serin clenched his jaw and turned, ready to enter the city and leave Leo behind. "I'm not a fool, Serin. Nor are you."

"I'll see you later, Leo," Serin said with finality, and he started off for the city.

Roy, meanwhile, was pointing to things and jabbering questions at Gato. "What's that over there? That big thingie?"

"Well I dunno, kid, there's lots of big thingies in Amadacyan. You mean the spire looking thing?"

"No, the thingie next to it that looks like a sphere with a dragon on it!"

"That's the Conference Hall. It's set up in tiers so that Riders and their Dragons can sit comfortably in it, and it's usually where our leader would give speeches or certain missions, but... it's been in disuse for a long time." He waved up the golden steps shaded by trees and layered with red carpet and towards the golden dome itself, a gigantic dragon in gold sitting at the top. "See that dragon? He was the biggest dragon to ever fly the skies, and the most powerful too. Tomas was his name, if I recall correctly, and he's supposedly Elissa's father, though that's by and large a rumor..."

"So who was his Rider?"

"One of the old Kings, grandsire of the former King."

"And why's the dome in disuse?"

"Well... you see, Leo Uragawa, our former King, died years and years ago, and only a King with a material body can claim the throne. Lord Uragawa is still haunting Amadacyan, but he can't claim the throne because of his lack of a body. When he died, he didn't leave any heirs behind at all. None, zilch, zippo, so we're kind of in a hole here."

"Doesn't he have cousins or something?"

"The laws are very strict. Only a direct descendant of the Uragawa line can claim the throne, so that means that no one else in Lord Uragawa's family can claim it other than him, his father, his son, his daughter, etcetera."

"So mothers can't?"

"If she was directly descended she could, but if there isn't any Uragawa blood, she can't claim the throne and reign in stead of her husband."

"Ohhh... that's complicated."

"Sure is," Gato snorted, carrying him up the streets to the market. He looked down at Roy under his arm and grinned, making the scar on his cheek seem to broaden. His light blue hair was capturing most of Roy's attention though; he looked like he'd been struck by lightning or something.

"So, what are you doing tagging along with Serin, eh? Come to be a Dragon Rider?"

"I dunno..."

"You should though, it's really cool. The only downside is that when you're older you'll be stuck to a certain kingdom to defend, but if you're with Serin I think you can actually freelance using his influence."

"That's kind of like cheating isn't it?"

"Not especially. Serin's pretty well known around here, pretty well known in all of Ameran. He's got a thousand different names, like 'Defender of the Mist' and 'Tempter of Fate' or 'Tempest of Blades', stuff like that. I, on the other hand, freelance because all the current kingdoms have Dragon Riders. Besides, I wanted to stay and defend Amadacyan. I was born and brought up here you know, it's really a great place to live. Not one day goes by that isn't interesting."

"So where's your Dragon?"

"Who, Redden? She's probably flying around somewhere, let me check." Gato seemed to concentrate for a second, and his face broke into a smile again. "Ah, she's gone to chat with some other dragons and size up the men." Gato winked at him. "Even Dragons have to find partners, you know. Redden'sa real softy though, real easy to get along with, so it won't be too hard. But for a hard case like Serin's Dragon, Elissa... well. I think some of Serin's younger self rubbed off on her. Maybe a little too much."

"Younger self?" Roy questioned. He wanted to get to know everything he could about Serin.

"Yeah, when Serin was younger, like, way back in the days where he first got Elissa, he was one heck ofa head case. Couldn't sit still for a minute, couldn't be quiet to save his life, and he was practically joined at the hip with Uragawa. Oh, Uragawa was sent to the same training as us, Prince or no, and he and Serin stuck together like jelly flies to swamp fungus. Those were some great times, they'd prank all the instructors, get punished for it, not be able to sit down the next day, and then they'd do it again! They were crazy, especially Serin. That was why I thought King Uragawa was insane when he stationed Serin to Balian. Balian is a huge kingdom, a fair pain in the butt to protect since there are often multiple raids by road and by sea going on out there. Usually the royal family only sends out experienced Riders out there, but he up and sent Serin, a novice, out there with Elissa. Leo Uragawa was stationed to stay at home, at Amadacyan, of course, and then Serin left a couple of weeks afterwards for Balian.

"I heard he did pretty well out there, actually. Him and the King of Balian got along great, Balian's raids and attacks started to slow, business started to boom even more than it had been, and Serin would come and visit Leo Uragawa from time to time. But on Serin's... I'd say it was his twentieth visit or so to Amadacyan, the King died, and Leo succeeded him for the throne. Leo's free time became less and less and he was constantly out on Rhona to check on something or the other in Ameran, and Serin's visits dwindled to a couple of times a year.

"But then Lord Uragawa disappeared. He wasn't back in Amadacyan by the time he said he would be, and everyone was getting worried. Word had been sent to all the Dragon Riders in their kingdoms and Serin flew over here as fast as he could, then started heading for the south where Lord Uragawa had disappeared to. But then... then... Balian... was slaughtered in a single night.

"Serin came back the following day with Lord Uragawa's body and a dragon egg in tow. Lord Uragawa was dead already and they interred him into the royal tomb. Serin said he had already performed the burning rites on Rhona's body, and he put the egg up in the Egg Hall, adjacent to the Conference Hall, right in the middle of all the others. That's where it's been to this day. That was... seventy-five years ago, and it still hasn't hatched. Highly unusual, since most eggs hatch within the span of three to seven years. We've had multitudes of hopeful Riders come and touch it, but it hasn't hatched for any one of them... I think it's just being stubborn."

"Could I try? I think I want to be a Dragon Rider too... like Serin."

"You'd have to ask Serin about that, I'm not exactly ina position to give you permission to do anything. You're Serin's kid?"

"He told you he didn't know, and I don't know either."

"Why? Orphaned?"

"I don't know."

"I see... I was orphaned too, raised by wild Katos, which is why I start switching to Kato language sometimes."

"What are Katos?"

"You know, little cat looking things with big furry ears, big eyes, small set of teeth, claws, tail, they come in bright colors..." Roy flashed back to the cat thing that attacked him, yowling and spitting, and nodded. "Yep, I was raised by Katos, and I can speak Kato. That's why I start going bilingual sometimes."

"Cool..." Roy wasn't raised by Katos. He was raised by the Mustang family, the Mustang family that had lied to him about his reason for existance his whole life. And he hadn't had a clue. Sometimes he found himself missing his subordinates, Kain Fuery, Haymans Breda, Vato Falman, even Alex Louis Armstrong, and especially his close friend Jean Havoc. And most definitely his best friend Maes Hughes, who was... dead now. But there was also something else... by God he missed Riza Hawkeye, that stubborn woman who would make him lie down when he was injured even if she had to sit on him and point a gun at his other eye. He quelled the feeling. It wouldn't matter now, he couldn't have any of that back. Riza was in Amestris, he was here, in Ameran. She was twenty-eight... he was a thirty-two year old in a ten year old body. He kind of missed Edward and Alphonse as well, especially Ed, who was usually his comic relief.

He wondered if they were worried about him. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't realized that he'd been given to someone else until his face smacked into Elissa's scaly blue leg. Serin muttered an apology and started to mount Elissa, but Roy cried out, "Wait! I wanna be a Dragon Rider!"

"We don't have the time, we have to look for-"

"But! But! We don't have to stay here and train, you can train me! Please? Please Serin?" With this childish outburst, Roy felt an emptiness in his head, an emptiness as a memory fell away, and a dark spot in the picture of his friends appeared in his head. There were Riza, Jean, Maes, Alphonse, Edward, Vato, Kain, Breda... and... who?

His thoughts were interuppted again as Serin sat down, hands on his knees. "Alright. Alright, you win. We might as well head for Egg Hall." There was a thoughtful and calculating look in Serin's eye, and Roy wondered what he could be thinking. "Just for... well... maybe we should have you try... _that _egg first."

"Which one?"

"The one that hasn't hatched in seventy-five years, Roy, seventy-five years." He took Roy by the hand and told Elissa to wait outside Egg Hall for them, and she snorted, rolled her eyes, but obliged, twitching her tail huffily. A man waiting just in front of the silver doors growled a command and raised a lance, and Serin held up one hand.

"Where's your I.D young 'un?"

"Relax, Meto, it's me, Serin."

"I'd like to think so, but I need proof." The man grunted and his lance never wavered from Serin's chest.

"Fine fine... here," Serin waved his hand above his blinded eye, just above the scar that stretched from below his brow to under his eye, and something under it glowed in the shape of a dragon. Meto, the guard, nodded, his red beard nodding up and down with him.

"It's good to see that you're back, Serin. Come visit some, eh?"

"I'll try, Meto. And I'm bringing in this little guy with me. Future Dragon Rider, this one."

"Ah good... we need more. Serin, most of the new initiates have failed to awaken Dragons. It's an unprecedented loss of Riders to be sure... it's just strange. Nothing like this has happened since..."

"Yes... I know. Hopefully it was just a fluke. Come on, Roy." Roy followed Serin inside as Meto stepped away from the door and waved at it, making it creak open.

The hallway inside was dimly lit and covered from wall to ceiling with eggs every color of the rainbow, but Serin was ignoring these and striding purposefully onward, sharply commanding Roy to keep his hands firmly to himself. Roy nodded and reached for Serin's hand again, almost like a reflex, and another hole bored itself into his memory. He suddenly felt frightened and his hand tightened on Serin's. Serin stopped and looked down at him, then forward again, muttering, "Uragawa..." but holding onto Roy's hand all the same.

Serin had begun to notice a certain vague similarity between the boy he was caring for and his old friend, Leo.

He stopped in front of a crystal pedestal and Roy bumped into him, then looked up again at the black egg, then at Serin. Serin lifted him up and made sure his feet got a grasp on the pedestal, then let him stand on his own. "Go on. The only thing now is to touch it, and if it's you it's been waiting for, then it will break. It's okay, take it slowly." Roy nodded and reached a quivering hand out tentatively, then flinched before he touched the egg. Serin encouraged him gently, and Roy bit his lip, closed his eyes, and stroked it quickly.

Nothing.

Serin sighed and picked up Roy again. "Guess not..." Roy put his arms around Serin's neck and looked behind them, then squirmed excitedly. "Wait! Wait a minute, Serin! Look!" Serin whirled around and the egg wobbled dangerously on the edge of the pedestal, fell, and hit the floor with a resounding crack. Roy jumped off of Serin and down to the egg as pieces of it popped off and a growl issued through the room. The last of the egg popped off and a small black Dragon emerged, rubbing its red eyes with a foreclaw and whipping its tail back and forth, it's black scales and red ridges glinting.

_Awwww... I was having a nice nap too..._


	4. Cecil of Ark

_**Lost Legacy**_

**Cecil of Ark**

"Don't argue with me Tobias, please..."

_Cecil, I strongly oppose what you are doing._

"I told you, I will not rest until he is dead."

_Why did you not take your chance and finish it back in the other world then? _

"For the simple reason that I want him to suffer, Tobias. Suffer until he begs to be killed."

_Hmph. You could have finished it._

"It would not have meant anything. He has to... _like I, he has to see hell and come back."_

_As you wish, Cecil. But for now, what are we to do?_

"Lord Kiraga has ordered me to return to Balian. Are you ready, Tobias?" He turned his dark eyes to his black dragon, and Tobias nodded curtly, lowering his black and blue ridged neck. _There is no way to change your mind?_

"Death or revenge, that will satisfy me." Cecil shed his silver armor and strapped on a black set, then fingered the black marks under his eyes, then the scar on his right cheek.

_Does your side continue to pain you?_

"It does. It's the other reason Meteru didn't die on that spot; It spasmed."

_I have warned you of overworking yourself. You are a Dark Knight, but you are not invincible._

"I realize that. I will be cautious in the future, don't worry." He tried to probe his dragon's feelings, but Tobias was well guarded against him; it was like running into a brick wall. Cecil did not bother to guard his thoughts from Tobias. His thoughts of hatred and aggression, his anguish and despair were for full view, but Tobias did not probe his feelings too much. The cape went on last, a long dark cape, and here adjusted his dark broadsword on his back, then swung himself up onto the saddle on Tobias' back.

"I'm ready Tobias, let's go."

* * *

Roy pranced out of the hall, his new little Dragon at his side, still tripping over its feet and flapping its wings experimentally.Its head craned back and forth to take in its surroundings and its new Rider, and it opened its mouth and yawned. 

_Hey! Wait!_

Roy stopped and looked back. "What? Oh! My name's Roy, what's yours?"

The dragon cocked its head thoughtfully and Serin stopped as well, surveying the baby dragon. _Rydia. _

Roy clapped. "Good! Then you're a... girl right?" She nodded and Serin raised an eyebrow.

"Funny, black Dragons are usually male..."

_You have something against females, buddy? _She raised a black claw at him and pouted, her tiny teeth fairly glowing white in her mouth. She flapped her wings a bit and managed a short burst in the air and hovered onto Roy's shoulders. She was a less than half his size, only to knee height, but she was already loveable. Well, to Roy, anyway. Serin held up his hands innocently and turned on his heel, then looked back at Roy.

"She might not be big enough to fly on for a while, you realize? Then again... being in an egg for seventy-five years..."

_Cool, is that how long I was in there? Didn't feel like that long, I was having a very nice nap. _Rydia stretched and yawned again from on top of Roy's head for emphasis, then laid her head down on his and closed her eyes, drifting off into Snoozeland.

"Heh heh, I think she's funny."

"I think that will change once you realize you're stuck with her for the rest of your life." Elissa shot Serin a look at this point and Serin shook his head and laughed. "Who can't take a joke now, Elissa?" She snorted again, breathing just enough fire at Serin to singe his hair and Serin bared his teeth at her. "Are we going to go to Narim now or next year?"

"I wouldn't mind if it was next year..." Roy said, cuddling Rydia. "Will Rydia get bigger?" Serin thumbed Elissa.

"What do you think, kid? If Elissa is anything to go by... well, you won't be able to cuddle her for much longer." Roy looked downcast at this and Rydia squirmed in her sleep, a claw waving in the air.

_A little behind the snout, ahhhh... that's it... _She thought at him as Roy scratched her snout. "So when can she breathe fire like Elissa?"

"It all depends on the dragon, though most don't learn for another half a year after hatching. Even then, it's only short bursts; fire-breathing takes practice, and being able to fly requires strengthening Rydia's wing muscles." Rydia's wing twitched in response and she opened her eyes again, then looked up at Roy.

_I want to fly. I'm going to practice every day. But where are we going now?_

"I think Serin said we're going to Narim, but I don't know where that is."

_Somewhere to the south, I think. I'm hungry._

"Serin! What do baby dragons eat?"

"Meat mostly, or something liquid."

"Do you have anything?"

"Not really... Elissa hasn't been a baby for a long while. I have some meat though, if she can stand it unliquified," Serin said, pulling some meat out of Elissa's saddlepack. It was salted, by the looks of it, and dried, but Rydia gobbled it down gratefully and resumed her nap on top of Roy's head.

"So how fast will she grow?"

"Let's see if I can remember properly..." Serin murmured, running his hand through his long silver hair restlessly. "She should double in size the second month and continue to grow about a foot per month after that until she's about two years old or so, maybe three. She should be full grown by then."

"Three whole years?"

"About."

"But that's too long!" Roy whined, jogging forward to catch up to Serin. "Are you sure it'll take that long for Rydia to grow?" Serin nodded and mounted Elissa, bending at his waist to straighten Elissa's saddlepack. Elissa used her tail to wrap around Roy's waist and lift him up along with Rydia, who squeaked in fright and clung to Roy's head with her red claws, her red eyes wide and frightened.

"It's good for little dragons to have older mentors," Serin said, grinning at Rydia as Elissa sat Roy down in front of Serin. Rydia whined at Elissa and Elissa snorted in response, but it wasn't a harsh snort. Roy thought he caught a smile edging into the corners of Elissa's mouth before she turned to look at the sky. Serin put one arm securely around Roy, the other on Elissa's broad shoulderblade."Now Roy... the first thing to learn about riding Dragons is to secure yourself in the saddle. See those straps down there? Near my ankles?" Roy nodded that he did. "Those keep me from sliding off when Elissa flies faster than normal, and if... there is fighting."

"You fight in the air too?" Roy asked in awe, and Serin nodded, gesturing at the broadsword on his back.

"Dragon Riders try to avoid it, but there are some occasions. Back to flying. When your Dragon starts to increase in velocity, the best thing to do is to try to lie flator you might break your back from wind strain. If Rydia gets as big as Elissa though, you won't have to worry too much; she'll block most of the wind strain." Serin fingered his chin thoughtfully, then sighed.

"I might as well instruct you a little in battle flying. It's a bit different that regular flying, because your life is on the line basically, so there's a lot of teamwork involved. As far as the actual technique, I can't teach you until Rydia gets bigger, but I will say this: Do not ever let Rydia die. Ever."

"Why? I mean, I don't want to, but just... why?"

"You'll see as you spend more time with her. The longer you are with your dragon, the stronger the mental connection becomes. You see... in time that connection will become so strong that you cannot live without her, and vice versa."

"Has anyone ever died?"

"Many many Dragon Riders have died that way, including many of Amadacyan's Royal Family. In these more peaceful times, though, it happens much less frequently."

" 'Kay. So... where are we going now?"

"I was planning to go all the way to Narim, but... I don't know if Elissa's up for it right now... it feels like she's not feeling well."

Elissa snorted roughly again. _You just leave the flying to me, sword boy._

"I really think we should land somewhere, Elissa, for your own sake if not mine. I don't like the feeling I'm getting over the bond."

_Maybe that's just the feeling of me wanting to puke on you._

"Okay okay, look, just land and we'll see what's wrong with you. If I can't figure it out, then you can heave on me," Serin said irritibly, andRydia squirmed happily in her sleep.

* * *

Bartimaeus leaned over his castle battlements, watching leaves from the mountain trees whip around in the wind and eyeing the dark storm cloud hovering in the distance. Lightning arced out of the clouds and struck the ground, but he didn't flinch. Here in Figaro, lightning storms were an everyday event, very normal, and it was what gave the kingdom the name 'Kingdom of Mountain Lightning'. He sighed heavily and shifted his position to relieve the aching feeling in his feet, but it didn't help all that much. 

He was getting old, true, but he wasn't _that _old... though sometimes he felt four times his age. What was he doing in this castle? He should be out looking for his sons, that's what he should have been doing. But he had responsibililties, not only for his children, but for his kingdom, and, unfortunately, kingdom came first.

But if he never found his children, then that would mean no heirs, and that might signal the downfall of Figaro... He broke off his thoughts as Angela came to stand next to him, her blue hair loose and almost brushing the ground. She lookedworried.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shifting his position again. This time his feet felt a little better. He should never have tried to run across Mountain Cactii, but he had to save the child... and when weighed against his feet, well... at least the kid was safe now. She shook her headand leaned on the wall next to him.

"I was about to ask you."

"The same thing, as usual. It always is, isn't it?"

"Yes..." She was silent for a while and she looked at him again, wondering if their sons would have looked like him or not. She hoped they did. "Bartimaeus."

He turned his head and shifted his feet again, once more getting uncomfortable. "I... I saw something." She had his full attention now and his pale eyes did not leave hers for a second. She swallowed. "I don't know how reliable it is, but..."

"Reliable or not, we must check."

"I saw..." She bent closer to him and whispered into his ear, and his eyes narrowed and his face seemed to harden.

"Then we cannot waste time. Angela, go rouse my father," he said quickly.

"Well, there's no need for that, Bartimaeus... I'm right here..." Bartimaeus sighed and turned halfway to look at the shorter elderly man. The man sported a spiky white moustache that certainly looked white from aging and wore red robes instead of Figaro's traditional ninja outfit.

"Father... I need you to take care of the castle. Angela and I are leaving first thing in the morning, and I'm counting on you to hold down the fort here." The old man bounced and stroked his moustache.

"Ah, leave it to me! Who was the king before you, eh Bartimaeus?"

"You were, Father..."

"EXACTLY! Now, where you headed to?"

"It's better if you didn't know. At any rate, we're leaving first thing tomorrow."

"Just you and Angela?"

"Yes."

Old man Figaro looked disappointed; he was being left out!"At least tell me why you're going then."

"To find your grandsons, of course. I wouldn't leave the kingdom for anything less that that."


End file.
